Mine
by StaticVagrant
Summary: John becomes obsessed with the deputy from the moment he sees her and is determined to make her his - no matter the cost.


_I wait in the darkness_  
_Frozen winds surround my face _  
_In the cover of darkness I can make believe it's you_  
_I feel you like the rain, I feel you like a storm cloud building in my heart  
I wonder if you know the pain, to want the one thing you haven't got _

"Come inside, dear."

The deputy closed her eyes and drew a deep, shuddering breath past lips that were coated in rain and salty tears. It was a dark, miserable night in Hope County, but the weather didn't come close to portraying the dark storm of emotions swirling within her.

It was over. They had failed. _She _had failed. Captured by the cult, each and every one of them. The deputy had moved to Hope County for love - for Staci Pratt, damn him. They fell in love and she had packed up her life to start a new one with the sweet young man she met at a bar in the city. They had agreed to assist the Sheriff together, vowing to remove the scourge that was Eden's Gate once and for all, to be _heroes_… but, alas. Staci lost control of the helicopter and was captured by Jacob Seed. The deputy tried to rescue her lover, but she was too hasty, wasn't careful enough and was captured herself by the youngest Seed brother.

John took an unusual interest in the deputy and refused to let her out of his sight. Shortly after her capture, he set up a small cot in his quarters for her to sleep on, but that arrangement lasted only a week. The bed was removed and he announced she would sleep with him instead, giving her no other option. She refused, sleeping on the hard, wooden floorboards just to spite him; but the lure of a comfortable bed soon won out and she spent her nights caged within the suffocating embrace of slender, tattooed limbs. In the quiet darkness of his room, she could almost trick herself into believing they were Staci's arms around her waist instead. Almost.

She begged to see him, to see Staci. Pleaded, even got on her knees before The Baptist, _anything _to make sure the man she loved was safe and well. Talking about Staci inexplicably angered John and he lashed out, the back of his hand connecting with her cheek and sending her tumbling to the ground. He gathered her in his arms instantly, apologizing profusely while rocking her gently, the hand he used to strike her sliding comfortingly down her spine. Confused, the deputy forgave him, too afraid of his actions if she didn't, and no sooner had the words left her lips when he kissed her. It was desperate, demanding, his fingers tangling in her hair and keeping her locked in place while he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

Everything changed after that day. John started becoming more familiar with her - a gentle touch here, a kiss there, his grip on her body as they lay in bed stronger, _possessive_. The deputy didn't ask to see Staci again, tried to push the thoughts of him aside and lock him away where her captor couldn't touch him. Little by little, John chipped away at her armor until she started responding to his advances, the memories of Staci's touch replaced with the feeling of calloused fingers and forceful, bruising kisses.

And so the deputy found herself in John's arms once more, lying in bed with his lips dragging along her jaw, tongue flicking out to taste her every so often as she arched against him. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to picture Staci, but the scratch of John's beard pulled her right back to reality. Staci had always been clean-shaven when they were together and although she could picture him, the deputy found she had forgotten what his smooth cheek felt like against her own. John hadn't tried to fuck her, not even _once_, but the deputy knew it was only a matter of time. Sometimes she wished he would just do it already, take her and be done with it, and so she grabbed his hand and lifted it to her breast, simultaneously proud and disgusted by the small groan of pleasure elicited from his lips as his hand made contact with the swell of soft skin.

She knew it was over when he tore his mouth away and left her wanting, pulling her to rest her head on his chest. Anger flared within her and she reached for him again, determined to use him as much as he was using her, but he pushed her hand away easily, pinning it to her side.

"Enough, my darling Deputy. Go to sleep."

Placing one final kiss on her forehead, John closed his eyes and fell asleep, scarred chest rising and falling evenly beneath her cheek.

_Just a twist in time and you could be mine _  
_Just a sip of wine and you could be mine _  
_Just a kiss divine_

_A hand brushes by my love _  
_A smile fuels a steel inferno _  
_You don't have to die to leave my world _  
_Stand still and you've departed _  
_It seems I'm not on your mind and I'm wasting my time_

_I'm just a fool to believe _  
_In the death of the night can you feel me inside?  
I wish that you could conceive..._

John knew he wanted the deputy from the moment she stepped foot in Joseph's church. Clearly the outsider on the small team of law enforcers, she was nïeve, headstrong and determined. The hell she brought only stoked his fire, the challenge she posed was a temptation stronger than any vice from his old life. He was determined to have her; and determined to _break _her.

He hadn't realized she was in a relationship with the pilot, not even when his eldest brother contacted him claiming the young man asked for her constantly. Simply a colleague, he thought. A colleague concerned about the safety of his teammate. John's young deputy had tried to rescue him, however; and John took that moment to strike hard, interrupting her attack with a well-aimed Bliss bullet and just like _that_, she was in his possession. Her fiery spirit challenged him daily, both frustrating and exciting him. How she had a_rgued _with him, how hard she _fought_. John had lost count of the number of times she had tried to attack him - it all made him want her _more_. But as the months wore on she finally started to soften, sharing his home and his bed, becoming more relaxed in his presence. She no longer jumped when he entered the room and even made attempts at conversation.

It was all a lie though, and the truth came out when she asked to see Jacob's hostage.

"Please, please let me see him," she pleaded on her knees in John's living room. "He's my boyfriend, I just want to know he's alright."

John struck her without thinking, the anger and irrational betrayal he felt manifesting instantly in the form of violence. He watched her fall, a sick sense of satisfaction rising within him as he stared at her pathetic form on the ground before him. Falling to his knees, he swept her into his arms to comfort her, reassure her, apologize for lashing out. He needed her to trust him, needed her to stay, he just _needed _her… _wanted _her. And she forgave him, most likely too scared not to but he didn't care, not when her lips felt so soft against his and her mouth was warm and sweet, the taste of the apple she had with her breakfast lingering on her tongue.

After that day, John started taking liberties with her, using any opportunity he could to assert his dominance over his captive. The deputy had let him in once and would continue to do so, allowing him to touch her, kiss her, hold her tightly in the evenings as she lay beside him. He knew she was still hesitant but it made the small victories all the sweeter, feeling her finally cave to his touch, taking pride in the way she sighed through the kisses he bestowed upon her. Sometimes he could almost believe she wanted him as desperately and passionately as he wanted her, especially when she encouraged him to touch her; but there was always that small voice in the back of his mind telling him she wasn't really his, not yet. But she would be; if he was patient.

Jacob's hostage wasn't mentioned again for weeks, until one night John awoke to the feeling of the deputy twisting in his arms and taking shallow, gasping breaths. But then she moaned his name, and all John could see was red.

"Staci…"

Enraged, something in him snapped. Ignoring every warning in his head, John pulled the deputy closer and crushed his lips to hers, his hands tearing at her clothes, waking the woman up with a start. She would forget the little rat in the mountains, he would fill her until the only thing she could say was_ his _name, only his. His patience had finally run out.

"What the f-"

He silenced her with his tongue, dragging her closer and rolling atop her trembling form. Her body was ready for him, for _him_, not the unworthy scum she had been dreaming about, and John pushed into her quickly, crying out triumphantly as he claimed his place within the woman he had lusted after for so long. His woman, his deputy. _His. _

"You're mine," he growled in her ear, pulling his hips back and slamming into her again. "Tell me you're mine."

The deputy's eyes were screwed shut tight, fingers boring into his sides, a moan of pleasure unwillingly torn from her lips. "I'm yours!" she gasped, turning her face away from him.

"Look at me and tell me you're mine."

Her bright eyes met his defiantly in the dim light of the room. "I'm yours," she repeated through gritted teeth.

"Again," he commanded, nipping at her bottom lip and grinding his hips into hers.

"Yours, John…"

John grinned as she finally raised her hips to meet his, fingers reaching up and curling around his throat as much as they were able. The pressure on his throat was almost pleasant and he leaned into it, groaning in appreciation as she responded to his touch, just as he knew she would. Her brow creased and her lips parted, head tilted back slightly and before he could help himself he was leaning down to kiss her. The hands around his throat relaxed slightly as the deputy returned the kiss, a soft moan of pleasure escaping her as she gave into him.

"Mine," he chanted, the word tumbling from his lips as he chased his end. "They'll all see… that you're finally mine..."

The deputy's soft walls fluttered around him and she cried out, fingers around his neck squeezing tightly as she came. It didn't take him long to follow and John held her down as he came hard, filling her with everything he had to offer, reveling in the feeling of her body greedily taking from him. He kissed her again, gently this time, before laying down beside her once more.

"That's right, my dear," he whispered dreamily into her hair. "Mine."

He reached out, one hand splayed over her stomach, and drifted into a peaceful, contented sleep.

_Just a twist in time and you could be mine _  
_Just a sip of wine and you could be mine _  
_Just a kiss divine and you could be mine_

_Won't you leave me in the darkness _  
_Take away the pride, all the dignity that's burning inside _  
_Can't you see I'm standing naked _  
_I'll bear all the crosses and the crucifixes you can provide  
If you could decide_

Once the deputy was sure John was asleep, she slipped out of the bed and grabbed the only item of clothing within reach - his shirt. Pulling it on, she fled the room and exited the house, standing on the balcony to peer through the heavy rain towards the driveway. The Ranch was crawling with guards and she knew she wouldn't get far if she tried to leave - _couldn't _get far, not while she was only wearing John's shirt, not with his very essence creeping down her thighs.

She leaned on the soaking balcony and hung her head. Her mind was on a loop, repeating the same words over. _I slept with John Seed. I slept with John Seed_. After dreaming of Staci, the man she loved. And to make matters worse, she had let herself enjoy it. She _came _for him, and let him spill himself into her, continued to rock against him while he did, _encouraged _him to claim her. Where did she go from here? What would Staci do when he found out? Would he abandon her? Her skin crawled as she remembered John's touch, cheeks burning with shame and desire as she pictured his lips caressing her flesh and remembered the pleasure she received at the feeling of him buried within her. She bit her lip hard enough to break the skin, disgust at her own actions coursing through her.

"Come inside, dear."

The deputy wasn't sure how long she had been out in the rain when John's voice cut through her like a hot knife through butter, but she couldn't move. His soaking shirt clung to her frame and her hands gripped the balcony rail like a vice. John appeared behind her, the heat from his naked body seeping through the shirt and making her shiver. One hand reached out, resting over her own and her legs began to shake, her knees growing weaker by the second. His other hand inched the wet material up the backs of her thighs and he slipped his fingers between them, gently exploring, following the warm, slippery path his seed made right back to her aching core.

"I wanted you since the moment I saw you," he whispered low in her ear, clearly without any care they were in full view of his men. "Let me absolve you of your sin, so we can walk the path _together_…" His finger ghosted over her, pinning her body to the balcony with his own to stop her weak legs from giving out beneath her. The rain continued to bear down on them and John kissed the side of her throat, damp beard scratching her sensitive skin. "Wash away your past… wash away that boy… walk through the Gate with me…"

The deputy's head lolled back against John's shoulder as he drew small, tight circles around where she was still sensitive, igniting her fire once more. She closed her eyes, blocking out the rain, blocking out the world, and let the darkness and the pleasure devour her. Sighing, she nodded in defeat - this had always been her fate.

"Yes."

_Just a twist in time and you could be mine _  
_Just a sip of wine and you could be mine  
Just a kiss divine and you could be mine_

Months passed since the night of the storm, the night John finally claimed the deputy as his own and he believed she had forgotten about the rat his brother kept. Told himself she loved _him _now. She had been obedient, complied with all he asked, and did not mention the other man's name in his presence again. She had been… perfect. He had given her everything he had - he had shown her kindness, mercy, _love_. He had given her everything she wanted and only asked for her loyalty in return. It took her some time, of course, but he was patient.

That patience paid off and he was rewarded with the companion he had been so desperate for. Suddenly a new life was laid before him and he was eager to walk the Path with the deputy by his side. He could picture it clearly - Hope County securely under his brother's thumb, the Gates primed and ready for the Collapse, and the deputy there to give him the things he never imagined he could have. Devotion, comfort, love, his _own family_. He could picture her clearly, glowing skin and growing belly; could see dark-haired children listening obediently to Joseph as he spoke about the Voice and the inevitable Great Collapse. Oh, how he _wanted_.

But then she tried to leave.

Where she had picked up the knife, he had no idea. She was under constant watch, allowed nowhere without a chaperone, and yet… and yet…

The evening had played out like any other. The deputy was waiting for him on the leather couch where he expected her to be when he returned to the Ranch, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck as he bent to kiss her. He told her he missed her and asked her how her day was - fine, just as he expected. A meal was waiting for them, wisps of heat rising from the plates neatly laid out on the long dining table and they ate in silence before he took her by the hand and led her upstairs. Her body, pure and unmarked when she came into his possession, was a canvas of scars and tattoos, each one bestowed when she had provoked his wrath. Each mark made her more beautiful to him, every single one hidden away where only he could see them in the privacy of his home. Each one proudly said _mine_.

It was with his usual reverence he possessed her again, their dance flawless, perfected over months of practice. Clothes fell to the floor like snowflakes and he sunk against the soft mattress, pulling her with him and kneeling at the temple of her that _he _had created, a church all his own designed for his worship alone. Only after he whispered his final prayer did he release her, both of them drifting to sleep in a tangle of sweat-covered limbs, recharging for the day to come.

John awoke to the deputy jostling beside him, clearly trying to be careful in her movements and he smiled - they had played this game before. Several times she had snuck out of bed in the dead of night and he had pursued immediately, often catching her before she could leave the room. Tonight, however, he waited, eyes still closed and pretended to be asleep until she moved too fast and he opened his eyes to find her kneeling beside him, knife poised to strike. He rolled out of the way just in time, the knife nicking his shoulder, the force with which she'd used in her attack leaving her vulnerable and he pounced, wrestling with her for control of the blade. It was difficult to anticipate her movements in the darkened room and he ended up throwing the full weight of his body onto her, forcing her to lie flat onto the bed.

He felt the knife puncture her abdomen before her cry of pain reached his ears and his eyes widened in shock. Scrambling to turn on the lamp, he found her naked and bloody, the serrated blade buried deep within the soft flesh of her belly. A symphony of emotions swirled within him - anger, disgust, denial - _this wasn't the plan_. She was his prized possession, the jewel in his crown. He wasn't anywhere near done with her yet.

The deputy stared at him with wide eyes, gasping from the pain and holding the knife with shaking hands. The lips he had kissed just hours before parted and she spoke, begging him to let her go. He couldn't, _wouldn't_, she would leave only when he granted her permission. Furious, he reached for the knife, fingers wrapping around her own which were locked tightly around the handle. He went to pull the knife from her body but she jerked her hands up, catching him off-guard and making his hands slip and push the blade deeper, opening the wound wider. He howled in frustration and anger, yanking the blade from her body and returning his bloody hands to her ribs.

She grinned at him as she drew one last breath, her focus slipping from his face to the sin marking his chest. With her final breath, the future he had planned for them slipped away, leaving him cold and alone. Frowning, he lay down and curled his body around hers, closing her eyes and stroking her face. His fingers left a bright, bloody trail down her cheek and he pulled her close, lips pressed to her forehead in a desperate final bid to keep her. She couldn't leave. Not yet. There was so much more that awaited them, so much he wanted for his life that only she could provide.

"My deputy," he whispered weakly as his men burst through the door. "Mine."


End file.
